Renaissance
by Em Mindelan
Summary: "What is past is prologue...your new life begins today." Epilogue to "Catharsis", "Evolution" and "Renewal". S/V romance/angst - AU Season 2
1. What Is Past Is Prologue

TITLE - "Renaissance"  
SUMMARY - "What is past is only prologue....your new life begins today." S/V angst/romance - S2 AU - epilogue to the Penance Trilogy - "Catharsis", "Evolution" and "Renewal".  
RATING - PG-13  
SHIP - S/V [duh. :D ;)]  
DISCLAIMER - I don't own the show, and I don't own the characters. So please don't hurt me. I also don't own the lyric of "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls that I used [ *thumbs up* to the person who can find it...:D ;) ]  
DEDICATION - To my reviewers. You guys inspired me to write this entire thing - honestly, without you to help me along and beg for new chapters, I'd still be stuck back on the third part of "Catharsis". So, may God bless you all, and THANK YOU so much. *hugs*  
  
**Renaissance**  
_What Is Past Is Prologue_  
  
You can barely breathe [_there's so much blood_]   
  
You're drowning in an ocean, not of water but of blood and guilt and sin and it's dark red, [_almost the red of cherries eaten in a hammock with a man you killed_] but not quite that red, the rich red colour that only human blood possesses. It clings to you in thick strings, covering your body, your skin, until you are coated in it....it sticks to you like glue, covers your mouth, your nose [_can'tbreathecan'tbreathesomeonesavemefromthisplace_]   
  
There are soft voices whispering in your ear....[_You killed me, you killed me, my blood is on your hands, black widow, black widow, black widow spider eats her lovers...you killed me, Sydney..._]  
  
You're drowning in an ocean of blood, and when you wake up [_sweating, screaming, crying, unable to sleep_] you see blood on your hands.  
  
* * *  
  
After Danny was killed [_you think one day that your life is near perfect.._] you took long showers, hot enough to scald your skin in the hope that maybe, just maybe, they would cause you pain, cause you enough pain that maybe you'd be able to feel something again, because right then all you were was numb.  
  
All you wanted was revenge on those who had hurt you [_those with even more blood on their hands than you_], revenge as a form of penance for your sins [_in the desperate hope that maybe you'd be able to look at your hands one day and not see red_], and then you wanted to die [_a quiet death, forgotten by the world_]  
  
You lied to everyone [_even them_] and you tried to breathe, and you lived each day wondering if you could die tomorrow [_wanting to die tomorrow_] because you had nothing to live for.  
  
One night you broke down on a little pier, and you began to cry, and you wished he would hold you [_holdmeplease_] because you wanted to feel the touch of someone else's skin against you....you wanted to know that you weren't a ghost in a world full of the living....you wanted to know that something in your life was real, tangible.  
  
He touched your hand, and he told you that you always had his number [_when you're at your lowest..._], and breathing became easier for a little while, because someone cared about you, even though they knew the truth about you, knew about the blood on your hands, knew the most intimate details of your sins and still cared.  
  
Yes, he cared. [_my guardian angel_]  
  
You knew you would ruin his life [_he cares too much_] but you didn't care because you needed to breathe and he gave you a few moments of release because you knew he saw your guilt and cared anyway.  
  
You knew you would kill him in the end, but you weren't strong enough to push him away [_how does the drowning man give up a lifejacket?_]  
  
* * *  
  
One night you cried in his arms [_for the lies/and the little girl you were/and the little boy he was_] and he cried in yours [_for the father he barely knew/and for you, trying to deal with the knowledge that your mother was a killer_] and you needed him, and you wanted him [_wanted something real/needed something to make you feel again, because you were numb from all the pain_] and so did he [_you looked into his eyes and saw the pain and the love in your own_] and so you used him to get rid of your pain [_it was everything and it was nothing and it was strong and it was sweet and you needed it so much and before you know it you're up against a chain-link fence and ohgodineedthisnowplease_]  
  
You walked out of the warehouse without saying a word, the bleeding [_yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive_] marks where the wire [_harderVaughnineedtohurtneedtofeelsomethingagain_] had dug into your back hidden under your clothes [_your scars are always hidden beneath masks and disguises, aren't they?_]  
  
You're sorry [_because you used him and you'll only end up hurting him and he deserves better_] but you're not because it felt so right, so good to feel something again [_forbidden sins/this shouldn't be wrong but it is but it's not and it is and it's not and you needed him so much, needed to feel something again so badly_]  
  
You used him because you needed him, and he was there and because you couldn't fight it anymore and because you needed to let go so badly and because you weren't strong enough anymore, and because you desperately wanted to be able to breathe again, even for a little while.  
  
You needed him, and you wanted him, and it was release for both of you.  
  
  
* * *  
  
A few days later, you met in the bloodmobile [_you have more blood on your hands_] and he gives you an icepack to soothe your bruised and battered hands [_you just wanted to feel something again...the pain lets you know you're still alive..._] and then he kissed you roughly [_to let you know that he won't be driven from your side by all the Noahs in the world_] and you were up against a wall, and you knew then that if the first time was all about your guilt and pain and need then this time it would be about his anger and hurt about being used and thrown away [_he knows you slept with Noah, even if you didn't tell him, because your eyes are his eyes reflected and he can see your guilt_] and his hands were under your shirt and he was touching you everywhere and you wanted him [_needed him_] so badly and then he pulled away and whispered in your ear [_"I want to hear you say my name. Mine. Not Danny's. Not Noah's. Let me know that you want me here, not your dead lovers. This is not about your ghosts, Sydney. This is about me, and this is about you."_] and he traced your chin and your neck with one delicate finger until you couldn't bear his touch any longer and said his name and told him what you wanted [_"Vaughn." "What do you want, Sydney?" "I want you."_] and then he kissed you and it was rough and it was hard and it was unforgiving and it gave you a few moments of freedom from the pain and the lies and when you looked at your hands [_wrapped firmly around his neck, never letting go_] you didn't see red.  
  
You didn't speak after you both finished. You had said all that needed to be said, purged all that needed to be purged.  
  
You were forever locked in his orbit from that moment, and he in yours.   
  
It was then that you realised that maybe you weren't just pushing him away for his sake, but for yours as well. You didn't need another grave to visit, didn't need more blood on your hands.  
  
But you couldn't fight it anymore. And so, when you were with him, you didn't fight, but instead purged your emotions [_purged the hate/darkness/guilt/blood/hurt/pain/suffering/anger_] so you could breathe again and keep on living the lie without screaming every time you looked at the mirror.  
  
[**catharsis**: _purgation_]  
  
* * *  
  
He walked into the warehouse [_homeplacewhereheis_] one day and it was like talking to a stranger.  
  
Vaughn [_guardianangelloverfriendconfidanteally_] replaced with Agent Vaughn [_coldseriousprofessional_].  
  
He finishes up the meeting quickly and doesn't look at you as you leave.  
  
You confront him outside the warehouse, and he admits to you that he knows that the voices are right....that he is too attached to you. [_"For a long time…people have been telling me I'm too attached to you. Too emotionally involved. In Denpasar…when I saw you fighting Sark …I knew they were right."_]  
  
He told you that when you entered his life, he knew that you were everything he'd ever wanted, and everything he could never have.  
  
_["She's sitting there, writing furiously. She's like no one I've ever met before. I'm both fascinated and a little scared by her. She's experienced so much pain, so much death and grief, and is still hard as nails. She's beautiful, even with the tears and the hair, and she's tough and she's.....she captivates me. Do you know what it's like to want someone more than life itself? To spend every waking moment wishing that you were with them? They say that sometimes you have moments of absolute clarity in your life. At that moment, the very first moment I met her, I knew she was everything I wanted, and everything that I was forbidden to have.][i]  
  
It was at that moment that you knew that you were playing with fire, but you were so captivated by the flames, so unafraid of getting burnt, you simply ignored the heat. Your mind screamed [[i]this is dangerous...this is wrong...you cannot be doing this, cannot be hearing these words, cannot be saying what you want to say in return_] but your heart only asked him [_"Do you honestly believe that what we did is wrong?"_]  
  
_It was wrong and it was right and it was everything you should never do again but everything you should be free to do forever...._  
  
He told you he was falling in love with you.  
  
This time it was slow but desperate and about truth and breathing and the importance of having an ally in this sick and twisted world when you're all alone and it was about growth and it was about pain and it was about love and it was bittersweet and it was about being trapped in a prison of your own making and wanting to be free to grow and trying to break down the prison bars.  
  
And as you collapsed, spent, on his shoulder, you half-whispered, half-sobbed "I'm sorry."  
  
You were sorry because you knew you would only hurt him and bring him pain and tears and you'd ruined his life, and he'd sacrificed so much and if your parents had never met, you'd never have been born but your mother would never have killed his father and you've made him lie to his friends, and you've just pulled him into the prison you're trying to escape from and you've wrecked his life and in the end all you would do would hurt him [_or kill him_].  
  
Before you left the warehouse, you told him that you were falling in love with him as well.  
  
* * *  
  
You thought that you had killed him. [_you watched him die._]  
  
Killed him like all the rest.  
  
_[You had studied the black widow spider once for a science project. You remember being fascinated by her. She kills all that she loves. Her kiss is death.]_  
  
You thought that you were the black widow spider. [_You sealed Danny's fate with a kiss and whispered truths in a shower. You killed Noah when you drove him into undercover ops because he couldn't deal the weakness loving you brought him. You killed Vaughn because you weren't strong enough to push him away._]  
  
You watched his death [_over and over again, trapped inside your memory of him running, running, running and then being caught by the water, shoved up against the door...dead._], until you're almost drowning and you're almost dead and you're almost numb and you're hovering in between, with nothingness [_peace? or just the dark?_] on one side and overwhelming emotion [_an ocean so deep it might wash the blood away_] on the other.  
  
And you were faced with a choice [_surrender to the dark or take a chance in the sea_] and you chose to swim, because maybe, just maybe you could drown yourself so deep in emotion that either you'll feel something again or you'll just be released from the slow motion replay of his death running inside your head.  
  
And you were crying, as the emotions [_lovehateguiltneedfearwantpainpleasurehurtcomfort_] overwhelmed you and you were in free fall, because he was the only thing holding you together, the only person who was free of lies, the eye of the storm where everything is calm, and he was gone and everything was coming undone...  
  
He loved you, you thought to yourself bitterly. He loved you and you killed him like all the rest. He was your guardian angel, but at the end of the day, when night came, it was the angel that fell.  
  
* * *  
  
A few days later you held a gun to your head, and wondered if anyone would care if you pulled the trigger.  
But when you started to squeeze the trigger, he wouldn't let you.  
  
* * *  
When you saved him in France you saved yourself as well.  
  
He told you that you weren't responsible for his actions, that if he had died he would have died of his own free will, because of the choices _he_ had made. And so, slowly, you began to begin to believe that, and the blood stains started to disappear.  
  
[**evolution:** _growth_]  
  
* * *  
  
It was then that you knew that he was your salvation, and you were his.  
  
He pulled you out of the darkness, and into the light [_he made the stains begin to go away_].  
  
He gave you something to fight for, and he gave you something to live for.  
  
So you fought, and you lived day in and day out [living/lying/breathing] and then one day you didn't have to lie anymore.  
  
You were free.  
  
[**renewal:** _awakening_]  
  
* * *  
  
People used to tell you that love conquers all. Home is where the heart is. That the most important thing was "just to love and be loved in return."   
  
You thought that they were nice platitudes, but ultimately empty words. [_How does love conquer a bullet? How is home supposed to be where the heart is? Home is a place where you live. And how can it be the most important thing in the world? Surely being a good person, doing good things, not hurting others...surely these things are more important._]  
  
You understand these words now.  
  
Love conquered a bullet. [_you began to squeeze the trigger but he wouldn't let you_]  
  
Love stopped you from killing yourself.  
  
Home was a dingy warehouse, because that's where he was, and he _was_ your heart.  
  
And through it all [_the lies the pain the hurt the darkness_] the only thing that mattered was him, his love for you and your love for him [_light at the end of the tunnel_]  
  
And now, all that is past is prologue, and the darkness doesn't bother you anymore.  
  
You can breathe again. You can live again. You can love again.  
  
Not because you have your life back, but because you have a new life, and it's free of the lies that kept you captive all these years.  
  
Yes, what is past is only prologue.  
  
Your new life begins today.  
  
You're wearing a flowing white dress [_simple but pretty_], and your father stands beside you [_I love you, sweetheart. Don't ever doubt that again._], and you can see your guardian angel at the altar.  
  
By the end of this day, you will have a new name [_Mrs. Sydney Vaughn_] and a new home [_it's not huge, just a house with a big lawn near the beach...lots of room for children_] and for the first time in your life, everything around you will be free of lies. [_"your resignations take effect the day before your wedding...and congratulations"....for the first time in your life, Kendall actually smiled._]  
  
You're finally stepping out of the cage that you've lived in for so many years, finally stepping out of the darkness and into the light.  
  
What is past is prologue, never to be forgotten [_it was your choices in life that brought you together, and for that maybe it was worth all the pain_] but never to be relived.  
  
**Your new life begins today.**  
  
[**renaissance**: _new life_]  



	2. Easter

DISCLAIMER - I don't own Alias, or the characters. And I don't own the poem "A Road Less Travelled" by Robert Frost.  
DEDICATION - To anyone who has ever encouraged me in my writing, or inspired me with their own work. [meaning all of you, as well as my best friend, Eleanor (you'll never see this, but you make me a better person. so thankyou duckling. ), the closest thing I have to a beta reader, Joy (to Latin scholars everywhere, my friend. thanks for reading it through for me. ), as well as the countless teachers who have made me want to live up to their expectations]  
So, to everyone [including all the terrific writers here - I am constantly inspired by things that I read on this board], THANK YOU.  
I'd also like to say thankyou for God, for making me a stronger and better person.   
  
And because I know you're anxious for the chapter....here you go.   
  
The last chapter of "Renaissance", and therefore, the final chapter of "Penance".  


**Renaissance**

_Easter_

Your new life begins today, with the man waiting for you at the end of the aisle [_your salvation_].

You walk into the little village chapel on your father's arm, and you don't think you've ever seen your father as close to tears as he is at that moment.

When you reach the end of the aisle, your father lifts your veil and kisses your cheek, and you look around at the church full of your family and friends, all smiling broadly.

Francie is your maid of honour, of course, and Weiss the best man. Will's there as well, genuinely happy to see you happily living such an ordinary life.

Your mother sits up the back, a C-4 necklace around her neck proof that no one, not even you, completely trusts her, even now. [_truth...and trust takes time. but we have all the time in the world now_]

You listen to the reverend speak [_one of your neighbours, a dear man who welcomed you with open arms when you moved to town_] on love and marriage and faith, and before you know it you've exchanged your vows, and it's time for the groom to kiss the bride. 

When he kisses you, you're free. 

Your kisses are no longer desperate movements born of pain and darkness and anger and guilt and fear and hate and need and want and every emotion imaginable, but just the sweet touches of a young couple very much in love. 

You're in love, and you're free, and you're happy, and the darkness doesn't drive you anymore. 

Later that night you're dancing, and there's music playing [_you're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be/and I don't want the world to see me, cause I don't think that they'd understand/when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am_] but you don't hear the words, because all of your attention is firmly focused on your new husband [_you like the sound of that, you think to yourself_]. 

Nearly two years ago, you'd never met, and you were [_reasonably_] happily engaged to a doctor. Now, you're married, and you can't imagine life without this man. 

"I love you, you know," you say softly to him. 

"Of course I know that, Syd," he replies with an amused expression on his face. 

And you do love him, more than anything in the world. 

You love him, and you're happy, and you're free, and you've almost been reborn [_your new life begins today_]. 

You're no longer the black widow spider, as you saw yourself for so long [_your love their kiss of death_] but instead the phoenix, [_beautiful bird of fire_] who dies [_burns to dust_] but then is resurrected, rising triumphant from the ashes, more glorious than before. [_from ashes to life, stronger than before_] 

* * * 

You live in a little coastal town a few hours outside LA, in a house that's not too small, and not too big. It has a massive lawn [_plenty of room for pets and children_] and a beautiful garden [_you're learning how to do normal things like plant flowers and where to put trees for the most shade_].

You teach high school literature [_the students have no idea that Mrs. Vaughn was once a CIA double agent, and that's the way it will stay_], trying to install the virtues of the classics in the next generation [_some are eager to learn...others aren't quite so receptive, but that's the way teenagers have always been_].

Michael [_you call him Vaughn when you're alone, or when you're arguing...or when you're making up for those arguments_] runs a little law firm in the nearest major "city", which is nowhere as big as LA, of course, but his practice does well, and he's happy [_he's a little bored sometimes, but it keeps him safe_]

Your father retired shortly after you did, and consults for the CIA sometimes, but he's not out doing missions anymore, which allows you to sleep easy at night knowing he's not out there saving the world.

Your mother....your mother lives with your father now, in a house he bought just after he retired, somewhere out in the mountains. You haven't asked about the status of their "marriage", and they haven't volunteered any. All you can say is that your mother is finally just Laura Bristow [_Irina Derevko died a few years ago, according to CIA records, around the same time as the Man was mysteriously assassinated..._], the woman she was happiest as, and that you've rarely seen your father quite so happy as now [_he smiles frequently now/the first time he smiled like he does now, you were almost scared from the sheer absurdity of it all_]. 

You're happier now than you ever thought you could be. [_happiness was for other people. happiness was for_ normal_ people_.]

For a few years now, it's just been the two of you, enjoying each other's company and getting to know one another like you never had the chance to before. You never realised exactly how much you didn't know about him [_his favourite food: Italian/his favourite movie: Star Wars/his favourite television show: Scrubs/his favourite season: winter/his favourite sport: hockey..._] until you visited his family in France....he was raised in a little village in Normandy called Fleury, where his mother and aunts and uncles live to this day. You visited them just before you were married [_the day was October 1st...two years to the day since you met, two years since his father's watch stopped_] and you were welcomed with open arms [_they don't know who your mother was_] - you even met his "crazy Aunt Trish", who you really didn't think was all that crazy, but actually rather sweet [_a little eccentric, maybe, but not crazy_]. 

You have normal lives, with normal jobs, and some people would say your life is almost depressingly normal [_"aren't you bored down here, Mike?" Weiss asks whenever he visits you_. _"Not at all," Michael replies every time, his arm around your shoulder_] but after a life like you have had [_you doubt that there are countries in the world that you haven't visited that are actually _worth _visiting_] the normality of it all is uplifting.

During the week, you rise early [_he sleeps soundly at night now, knowing that you're safe in bed beside him_] and walk your dogs [_you bought a friend for Donovan just after you married, a energetic golden retriever named Texas_] around the town, before returning home to shower [_sometimes together_] and dress for work. Then you go your separate ways [_a kiss and "I love you"'s at the door, always_] - you off to teach Shakespeare and the like, he to his law firm, where the most common infractions dealt with are unpaid speeding tickets. You take it in turns to cook dinner each night [_he cooks superb French cuisine....you've only just really begun to learn not how to burn eggs, but he's an excellent teacher (when you don't get sidetracked playing with food...) and eventually you'll learn, right?_], and then you'll both curl up in your living room, reading or watching movies [_or hockey, when his team, the Kings are playing_] or doing work for the next day, and then you'll go to bed happy and content and sleeping side by side in a four poster bed.

Of course, it's not all smooth sailing [_sometimes you argue, but never very much, and sometimes you suspect that you're both guilty of winding the other one up, because making up after the arguments is so much fun_], and your lives aren't perfect, but they're good, and they're normal, and best of all, they're _together_.

It's been the two of you now for nearly four years, but there's plenty of room in the house [_four bedrooms - yours, a large study and two rooms you use as guest rooms, or more often than not, storage areas_] and there's a big lawn for children to play on [_and you even have a white picket fence_] and lately you've been feeling a little nauseous [_"Syd, did you throw up again?" "No....well, yes, but I'm feeling all right, honestly." "Syd, that's the fourth time this week, and it's only Wednesday! I'm calling Dr. Perkins and scheduling an appointment for you this afternoon, okay?" "Fine, Vaughn. I really don't need it-" "Syd, this is not something that's good for you." "All right, Mike..."_] and so you're on the way to your doctor, a kindly and energetic grandmother of 4.

"Sydney! How lovely to see you again! It must have been...what, two months? I don't think I've seen you since Beth and Chris's [_next door neighbours and colleagues...Chris teaches math, Beth art_] barbecue." She almost bounces over and gives you a hug.

"It's good to see you as well, Charlotte!" you reply, not able to help becoming enthused by the woman's friendliness.

"Now, do sit down," she says, gesturing you to a seat in her office, "What can I do for you today?"

"Well, Mike insisted that I come in...I'm really feeling fine, but you know what husbands are like..."

"What is your lovely husband so concerned over?"

"Well, I threw up this morning...and it's the fourth time this week...I've been feeling a bit nauseated in the mornings lately," you reply, feeling a little silly to be wasting her time with this [_you've probably just got some sort of stomach bug_]

She actually smiles slightly, like she knows something that you don't. "Well, I think I have an idea about what it might be, but let me just run some tests..."

So she takes some samples [_you're not in the least fussed by having a blood test anymore, since experiencing some of the world's best torture techniques_] and goes off to run those tests. 

A few minutes later she comes back in, definitely smiling now, and you wonder what on earth is so funny about stomach bugs.

"Sydney, it's exactly what I thought it was." She sits down, and begins to get out some brochures from her desk.

"So, what bug have I picked up?"

"Well, it's not exactly a bug, although sometimes they do bear a definite resemblance to insects....Sydney, you're pregnant."

"I'm WHAT?"   
  
This wasn't what you were expecting when you entered this doctor's surgery, no, not by a long shot. I mean, you've always thought about having children, but you're both still young, and you definitely weren't trying to have children [_although it never hurts to practice_]. 

"Pregnant, dear. About four weeks along."

[_four weeks...that would make it about the time of that argument you had with Vaughn over whose family you were going to spend Thanksgiving with...._] You blush slightly, remembering the aftermath of that fight....

She sees your blush, and, you suspect, the reasons behind your blush, and just starts to give your brochures on pre-natal mother's classes.

You walk out of her doctor's surgery completely floored.

You're having a baby.

_You're going to be parents._

_* * *_

"Vaughn?" You walk through the front door grinning broadly. _A Baby. You're having a baby._

"I'm in here, Syd," he calls from the kitchen, cooking something that smells suspiciously like pasta with some sort of seafood.

"Okay!" You go and change clothes quickly, getting out of your teacher-ish clothes and into jeans and a t-shirt. [_I'm going to have to buy _maternity _clothes!_]

"So, what did Dr. Perkins say? Just a stomach bug or something?" he calls again.

"Not exactly," you reply, sneaking up on him from behind and kissing his cheek. 

"I'm pregnant," you whisper in his ear.

He drops the spoon he was holding and just says, "You're WHAT?"

"We're having a baby."

"What? How? When?" You're never seen him look quite so bemused as right now. If anything, he's even more surprised by this news than you were.

"We're going to have a baby. Secondly, I believe you're quite familiar with the process - and you were there. Thirdly, in about thirty-six weeks."

"We're having a _baby_? As in a child? A little boy or girl? Of our own?"

"No, Vaughn, someone else's. Yes, our own! We're going to be parents, Mike."

"Parents............Wow."

"Yeah," you grin.

"We're going to be parents!" 

He lifts you up then in his arms, and you don't think you've ever seen anyone quite so happy as he is at that moment. As he puts you down, he kisses you, and you reply quite eagerly, taking his head between your hands and kissing him back firmly.

"We have to tell everyone! Our parents will be ecstatic!" 

You giggle slightly as a thought strikes you suddenly. He looks at you quizzically. "Can you see my father as a babysitter?"

Your husband starts laughing, "So many people back in the Company would pay good money to see Jack Bristow babysit....I wonder if we could sell tickets..."

You giggle even more now at the thought of seeing your father stare furiously at rows of CIA agents watching him change diapers....

"Did Dr. Perkins say how far along you are?" He says suddenly.

"About four weeks," you reply, grinning.

"Four weeks? Oh...ah." He blushes furiously as he remembers that night. 

He kisses you again, his hand between you, resting on your stomach.

"And baby makes three," he says huskily when he breaks the kiss.

You just smile and somehow you end up in the bedroom as all thoughts of dinner quickly exit your heads. [_it never hurts to practice, after all._]

* * *

Nearly nine months later, you're gripping Vaughn's hand so hard that the poor man looks like you've broken bones. [_sorry, sweetheart, but I can assure you it's nothing compared to the pain _I'm _in right now_]

"Vaughn," you mutter between gritted teeth, "I have been tortured by _professionals_. That was _pleasant_ compared to this."

You add on, "Piece of cake my shirt." 

He just smiles weakly, knowing that you could probably break him into toothpicks without breaking a sweat when you're as worked up as this. [_your husband is a very wise man not to argue this point with you right now_]

"Come on Mrs. Vaughn, just one more push," the doctor at the end of the bed says encouragingly.

You glare furiously. "You. Want. To. Give. Birth. To. This. Baby?"

"Ah, no," he backs up a few paces, and you almost smile.

"Good man. Now please don't try to tell me how to do it!" 

You're really not in a mood to be nice. Honest to God, there is no part of you that does not hurt right now.

But when you're holding your daughter [_"It's a girl!" Vaughn says with the second-biggest grin you've ever seen, on his face - the biggest was on the day of your wedding_] a few hours later, it all seems worth it.

"Eleanor Joy Vaughn," you say in rapture as you watch your daughter feeding [_you don't think you've ever seen such a perfect child_]. Vaughn sits at your side, and gently kisses your forehead. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is. Almost as beautiful as her mother."

"I love you," you say softly to him. [_more than you can ever know, you think sometimes, and then you look into his eyes, and you know that he sees the same love in yours_]

"I know," he replies. 

* * * 

You've killed men, and you've had blood on your hands, and you've committed many sins. [_but you realised long ago that there were more people with more to answer for, more blood on their hands, more death to their names. so you devoted your life to destroying them, as an act of penance, trying to redeem yourself for your sins_]

Now you've brought a new life into the world, and you think that maybe this was your final act of penance. [_the slate is clean, finally_]

From death, new life. 

From blood on your hands, a baby in your arms.

From sin, renaissance [_new birth_]

You haven't had an easy, or a happy, or a normal life.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

Your daughter will grow up in a household with two parents that love her greatly, and who aren't holding back any secrets.

She won't be a spy [_unless she wants to be_], and she'll be able to tell her friends and family about her job without putting their lives at risk.

She'll be free to make her own decisions and choices in life, something you were never afforded.

She won't have blood on her hands. And she'll be free of the lies.

When you look back upon your life though, at the darkness and hurt and pain and blood and guilt and lies that you lived through [_you lived by the words 'you live and you lie and you breathe', just those words over and over again inside your head for nearly two years_], you think that maybe it was worth it, because you know you'd never have met the man that makes your life worth living [_the reason why you still have a life to live_], never have had the normal life [_the normal and free and true life_] you have now, never had the baby girl you are feeding now [_the little girl you already love so much it almost hurts_] without the choices that you made in life [_the choice to join the "CIA", the choice to tell Danny the truth about your life...the decision to go to the real CIA_].

You took the road less travelled [_it was dark and it was painful and it hurt you_] and that has made all the difference [_it led you to him, and to this place and to this little girl_]. 

And nothing else matters.

[**renaissance**: _new life_]

You think one day that you have a perfect life.

Your life's not perfect. But it's yours, and you're free and you're happy and you no longer see blood on your hands. The darkness doesn't come for you at night anymore. You've done your penance, rid yourself of your sins, and now a guardian angel [_your salvation_] sleeps beside you every night, and a little girl [_Eleanor: light_/_Joy: happiness_] lights your days. 

It's not full circle [_because the beginning was full of lies_]. It's a new circle, and a new life. [_and the start of this story is full of hope and light and above all, truth_]

[**penance: **_catharsis/evolution/growth/renaissance_]

**END **

[It's over! It's really over! *sobs*]

*is happy because it's finished, sad because it's over*

Please read and review! :)

And thanks so much to everyone who already *has* reviewed!  
:)  
Em


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